Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Next Chapter....

Chapter Three

The next week was full of Mystery Guy. I found out his name was Blake and also that he was very smart and witty. He didn’t tell much about his background, but I couldn’t care less, it meant I didn’t have to mention mine.
The same week, though, I felt even sicker, not just stomach or head, but coughing and sneezing. What a cruel world. But I toughed it out, knowing seeing Blake was worth the pain. We met at the coffee house at the same time each day, just talking about everything under the sun (excluding our own past lives). It was great, up until that Saturday.
Saturday was the day that Kelly came and spoke to me. It was a complete surprise and I didn’t know if it were a good or bad one.
Further down from where Griffin had cornered me I saw her walking my way. When she spotted me, Kelly paused a few feet from me, just staring. I did the same. After a few more moments of awkward staring, I sniffled and mumbled, “What’s up?”
Looking at me with sad blue eyes, she said, “I came to… tell you something.”
More odd seconds passed. Nodding my head, I snapped, “What is it?”
Slowly, as if changing her mind of telling me, Kelly said, “Griffin wants to speak to you on Monday.”
Rolling my eyes, I asked, “Oh, so he sent a secretary to tell me? Wow, Mr. High-and-mighty-”
Angrily and abruptly, she barked, “Don’t talk about him like that!”
“Excuse me?” I was startled.
“Just because he’s passionate doesn’t mean he’s creepy! Also, he sent me ‘cause he didn’t want to you freak out and think he’s, like, stalking you!”
“Passionate?” What was Griffin playing at? “Kelly what do you know about Griffin’s, er… passion? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Just meet him outside your work Monday.” With that, Kelly walked away, shaking her head.
Griffin is a dead man, I thought, What is he doing to me?

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Listen Up!

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Chapter Two

After procrastinating and stopping around, I found myself at my apartment door. I didn’t make any move to pull out my keys and open the door. Simply stared at it. The white paint was scratched and peeling, turning a dirty off-white color. Wrinkling my nose with disgust, the door reminded me of my dad. Scratched, unappealing, and dirty. My dad had many faults, cheating on my mom being a huge one, but the sad truth was; my mom wasn’t completely innocent. At the first signs of my dad cheating on her, Mom seemed to lose quite a bit of weight. My sister’s death only added to her distress. Then, suddenly my mom didn’t seem quite as anxious or nervous. I thought she was just coping, my parents conditions improving. Until I watched from my window my mom coming home late, again, but driven by someone. Some guy. When they both got out of the car together, I witnessed the man walk right up to my mom, place his hands on her sides and kiss her.
That day my soul died, as did my parents marriage. I hated my dad from the day he cheated on Mom, and Phil for supporting my mom to cheat on Dad.
Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I slowly reached in my jacket pocket, retrieving my keys. Extending my arm, I felt myself unlock the door knob, allowing access into this heartless home.
I realized I had been holding my breath, anxious about my dad’s reaction of my returning. No was (and, boy was I thankful) home, so I slipped into my room and sat on my bed, to which I responded by combing my fingers through my hair. I didn’t want to think, but there was so much to think about. I close my eyes, trying to figure out why Kelly was acting so weird.
No! I thought, No! Kelly, you’re making a huge mistake! Don’t let Griffin-!
I woke up, feeling both relieved and disappointed it was only a dream. Disappointed because it meant I was here, relieved because Griffin had manipulated Kelly into loving him-when in truth he didn’t love her. I lift my head drowsily, checking the time. The digital numbers read 6:17p.m. I got up and shook my head. There was an achy-feeling in my chest from my dream, telling me that (just like the song) my dream will come true. Who’s the sick jerk that came up with those lyrics anyways?
Another feeling entered me, only this time it was my stomach, as if it knew it was time for dinner. Giving into hunger, I get up to begin the scavenging. Walking straight up to the fridge and opening it, it was only in vain. There was only milk, some oranges, and a container filled with who-knows-what.
After chugging some milk straight from the carton, I open cupboard after cupboard just to be let down. Giving up, I gave into an orange and began peeling it.
Once I had gotten to the last two or three pieces a jingling noise came from the door, indicating someone was coming in. Once the door clicked loudly, I watched my mom enter the room. She looked tired and slightly upset. She looked over to see me at the table. Instantly, as though caught in a criminal act, her attitude changed. She folded her arms insecurely, and said, “H-hey, baby. How are you?”
Pursing my lips, I give her a look and return to my attention to the remaining orange pieces, “Hungry.”
Mom walked into the kitchen and asked, “Really? Didn’t I just go shopping?”
I snort like it was a joke, because it was, and say, “Ha, yeah, like a month ago.”
I heard her sigh and open the fridge. She reclosed it and stood there before she finally said, “Well, I’m gonna be in my room… if you need me.”
I grunt in reply, and listen to her footsteps until her room door finally shut. I slouched in my chair and chewed my orange without really tasting it. There was ringing silence, leaving me to my deep thoughts. My mom, she could be described as plain or dull. Her appearance was plain- brown hair pulled into a tight pony tail, a brown jacket she wore everyday, and dull colored clothes. Her voice was slightly monotonous and her job wasn’t exciting, being a receptionist.
I know, I know, it sounds really mean, the way I described her, but it’s the straight up truth. There’s no other way to describe her.
Sighing, I begin to push myself up as the phone rang. Getting up, I called down the hall, “I got it!” Lifting it to my ear, I answer, “Hello?”
A man’s voice comes from the other end, “Sherry?”
Instantly I knew who it was, and my lips pursed again, “No honey, this is Roxy. How are ya Phil?”
I sensed his dishearted-ness and irritation when he replied, “Oh, hello Roxanne, can I speak to your mother?”
Phil knew I didn’t like him, or what I knew. And fair is fair, because he doesn’t like me much either, so that worked out nicely. I replied, “Nope, sorry, she can’t come. You see she’s married and can’t sleep with you tonight.”
Phil inhaled. I sensed his annoyance, and was proud I had gotten to him so quickly, “Roxanne, I’m not trying to be a bad guy. Your mom needed help-.”
“So you think sleeping with her will help her cope?” Came my sharp response.
“N-no. She just needs someone she can trust… and love, since her husband has different, uh, company every night.”
I so loved how he didn’t deny his intentions toward my mom, “So you think that because my dad’s cheating on my mom that she should go right on ahead and cheat on him too? Wow Phil, you’re such a philosopher, seriously, you make me think so much deeper about the world and it’s meaning-!”
“Roxanne, you don’t understand, I-!”
“Oh, no. I understand perfectly,” My voice was slowly rising, “I know that you need to stay away from my mom!” I called him a foul name and slammed the phone on the receiver.
“Who was that, Roxy?” My mom’s voice traveled down the hall.
“No one, just some idiot trying to sell me some crap.” I answer truthfully. My adrenaline was pumping- I wanted to blow off some steam, but I didn’t want to run into Griffin again.
This so sucked! My life was slowly coming apart piece-by-piece. I don’t cry, only get angry, and I was far from tears. I wanted to find Phil and give him a piece of my mind. I wanted to see Griffin just to punch him in the face. I wanted to grab Kelly by the shoulders and shake her until she was normal again. I wanted to forgive my dad- to have him back!
But I knew none of those things were possible, and that only increased my fury. Only increased my well-hidden heart-ache. I was breathing heavily, so sick of this crap I called life. I look at the telephone that only moments before held the voice of one of the people I hated most. I picked it up- receiver and all- and next thing I knew, there were mangled, plastic pieces of phone on the ground. I clenched my jaw and stared at the mess in front of me. Electrical pieces were stringing from it, but still whole. Two stomps and a satisfying crunch later, it was more than ten bits.
“What in the world was that?” Mom’s voice right behind me. Without looking at her, I pushed by and locked myself in the bathroom. I blasted the shower on, making sure it was extra hot, so that it was nice and loud, drowning out all my disturbing thoughts and my mom’s rapping at the door.

Literally, a half hour later, I peeked my head out the door. All seemed calm, and Mom had her room door shut. In my pajamas (that clung to my wet legs and back) I slinked back into my room. When I entered my room, out of habit, I locked the door. Then, my fingers were twitching in anticipation, so I shuffled to the window and pulled it up. Looking down, there were a few people walking up and down the street. I tapped my fingers, wondering what to do.
Then I knew exactly what to do. Digging under piles and piles of junk, I found my iPod Dock. Slamming in the iPod, I pressed ‘play’ and amped up the volume to deafening. I don’t know who was singing or what the song was, but that didn’t matter. It was distraction, creating a block in my mind so I was unable to think. I lay on my bed just listening to the ear-splitting music, staring off to space.
Time flew. When I checked the time next, it was ten- something. Thankful, my eyes closed, and I fell asleep, again, fitfully.
It was the blasting music that woke me up. It was louder than some of the other music on the iPod. I didn’t jolt awake, neither did I feel tired, but at the same time it felt as though I had been awake all night. Luckily, there hadn’t been any dreams… or nightmares.
Sitting up and popping my back, I glanced around my messy room, smacking my mouth, hoping to take away that nasty morning breath. The clock now read: Eleven twenty-one A.M. Work. Sluggishly, I pushed myself out of the bed and into a new outfit. After changing and turning off the music, I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. The house was ringing with all the silence, to the point where it hurt. Picking up my keys and jacket, I heard someone in the kitchen.
Mom was in the kitchen, staring at the fridge, back turned from me. No breakfast for me today. I turn and walk to the door. Hand on the handle, Mom asks, “Where you going?”
Sighing, irritated, I replied, “Work?”
I purse my lips, “Where’s Dad?”
Again, silence.
“Bye,” and I left the apartment.

I reached work twelve on the dot. Missy was surprised to see me, “Roxy! You’re early.”
“Yeah,” Came the bland response. Awkward.
She smiled politely, “So, uh… how are you?”
“That’s good.”
“Mm, hmm.”
Again, the voices of customers filled the room, causing less awkward tension.
“So?” I said, “Did Joan… ya know, pop the question?”
When her face fell, I knew the answer.
“No,” she mumbled, “I thought maybe, but then he never came close.”
“Wow, sorry. That, uh… that, uh, sucks.” I look around, trying to find some way to relieve the tension.
“Well,” Missy sighs, “I guess I’ll let you… uh, take-take over.”
“Yeah,” I reply as she takes off her apron. As I watched her sadly take down her jacket, my heart pained for her. Poor Missy. What was Joan waiting for? They’ve been dating forever!
“Bye, Roxy,” Missy passed by me. She began to open the door, when I turned and told her, “Missy,” She turned to me, and I nodded, “He’s going to ask you. Soon.”
Eyes filling with tears, she nodded, “Sure, Rox. Bye, Rox.” And she was gone.
I sat behind the counter, watching the door with dishearted-ness. The work schedule, though, brought me back to normal… well, as normal as I really am. I mean, I was feeling better, okay? The coffee houses’ atmosphere lightened my darkened mood, making me forget how little, how bad life is. Handing a customer his to-go cup, I saw someone had spilt at a table. Picking up a stained rag, I walked up to it. A few swipes of the cloth, it was gone. Turning, I heard the door announce another someone’s arrival. It took a lot of thought not to drop the rag on the ground and gape.
In the doorway was the heavenly being. The perfect guy. Him. His collar was once again popped, and eyes stormy as ever…
Wow, how cliché am I. Turning into a puddle at some random hot guy’s feet? Realizing I had frozen in place, I unclenched my joints and forced (left, right, left, right) myself to the counter.
Stepping out of the sunlight, he put down his collar, making me wonder why he had it up in the first place. I mean yeah, it was cold, but cold enough to pop the collar? No. He stared at me for a moment, then- to my pleasure-nodded. Not in a ‘wuzzup?’ kind of way or a stiff, “Hmph!” A slow, ‘Hello there’ perfect one. This guy was good. Griffin crossed my mind- his countenance. Never did he send my mind spinning or make me feel extra elated. He was a punk- incomparable to ‘Mr. EE’. See that? Griffin never made me play on words all nerdy-like like that.
The guy sat down at the same table he had before. Instead of the angry stony stare, though, he seemed more… relaxed. More… chill. I liked it. Then, to my disappointment, I thought of Kelly. What she had said to me. Why I hadn’t asked his name… or had hit on him. Why hadn’t I? Casting a glance at his direction over my shoulder, I pondered on the questions. Then is when I realized: He was different. Not only in appearance, but the fact he had a different… ‘feel’ about him. Less rebellious, less immature… more perfect. I smile to myself- something that hadn’t happened for a while.
Sighing, I pull out my magazine from under the counter and began reading. I had read a paragraph or so when a melodious voice said, “Excuse me?”
Looking up, I felt my eyes widen and I almost gasped. Standing right there- right there- was the guy. Oh man, he was cute. His complexion, flawless, and under his jacket, I could tell he was built. That’s when I also inhaled his scent, and it was ever better than Hollister cologne. I wished I never had to exhale. Staring into his magnificent face, I saw his eyes were bluer than I had realized, his hair a perfect charcoal-brown. And his smile, it was to die for.
Lost in his epitome of perfect man-ness, I realized I hadn’t answered him. Quickly to save my pride, the words stumbled, “Uh-uh, yeah? Yes?”
His smile grew at my stupidity. Looking me right in the eye he said, “Hello. Do you mind if I order?”
My mind slowly turned, unable to process his words. His voice. His… voice. It was deep, smooth, and had the very faintest trace of a British accent. British. Accent. Oh-my-gosh. Lost in his spell, I sputtered, “Yeah! Of course! Yeah, what-? Um, what do you want?”
Raising a dark eyebrow, he calmly told me, “Well, you see, I don’t very much like coffee, what would you suggest I should get?”
Did he just ask for my opinion? This guy’s good, “We do sell hot chocolate, some water, Coke, Sprite-!” I babbled giddily.
“Mmm,” He exhaled suddenly, “It’s been forever since I’ve had a coke. If you don’t mind…” He began to dig in his pocket for some money.
“Okee-dokey!” I got up. Okee-dokey? When have I ever said that? Opening the cold fridge, I produced a Coke bottle, “Buck fifty.” I hand it to him. He placed the money on the counter, all in quarters. I smiled at the complete guy-like trait. The simple action proved his full masculinity. Biting my lip and smiling, I put the change into the cash register.
Instead of leaving, though, he opened it and took a huge gulp of the soda. After a good swig, he sighed, refreshed and recapped it, “That was refreshing.”
“I’m a Cola fan myself,” I gushed. Wow. I really wanted to take back the comment after sounding just like a girl sucking up to some guy.
Except, he didn’t seem to mind or notice, rather, he seemed… intrigued. “Really?” he asked, smiling again, stealing my breath from my lungs, “Interesting.”
I smile slyly, trying to act as though I was interesting, “Yup, and I wish I could end world hunger too.”
To my surprise, he chuckled at my lame ‘model’ pun. “And let me guess,” he teased, “You try doing that while wearing a swimsuit and high-heels?”
“What better way?” I smile, thrilled at his talking to me. We both started laughing, filling me with happiness. He leaned forward, “So how about I come back tomorrow and listen to the speech for your next beauty pageant?” I giggled. Giggled?
“Sure.” I replied and watched him leave.
I was giddy--walking on air. I could in fact overcome my break up! Smiling to myself, I pictured his face. Then his voice… that accent! His smell overcame my senses, and all I could think was, this guy was good. People had begun to stare at me strangely, making me unsure if it was my dreamy smile or my Hayley Williams similar-look. Whatever the reason, I didn’t care. I had me a man.

As if irony knew my happiness couldn’t last, I felt sick when I got home. My stomach was off, my forehead broke out in sweat and my hands were clammy. I need to lie down. I shuffled awkwardly to my room. Hopefully no one was home, I hate it when my mom pretends to care or help. Placing a cold hand to my head, I tried to stop the room from spinning. Standing up, the room spun, making me dizzy. I walked to my mirror and sat in the chair. Hair stuck to my forehead and I was paler than usual. That was saying something.
My eyes had rings under them from lack of sleep. Nope, not a pretty sight. Panic gripped my already troubled stomach. My ‘date’ with my mystery guy was tomorrow, no way would I miss it.

The Real Beggining

Chapter One

I was flipping through a magazine behind the counter, waiting. Today had been slow, giving me a chance to read the newest and latest news about Jessica Simpson’s screwed up love life and how Robert Pattinson is “Just like us!” Most definitely, we both have expensive cars, million dollar houses, and a British accent. Practically twins (excuse my sarcasm, but I get so fed up with these lying paparazzi-people swearing that stars are “normal.”)
The door’s bell tinkled as someone entered the coffee house. I retied my apron tighter and approached the counter. The guy who just entered looked about 26, wore a puffy vest, and had retro-ish glasses. Not the weirdest I’ve seen here in New York.
“What can I get you?” I asked, not even bothering to slap on a fake smile, or push a little enthusiasm in my voice. He didn’t seem to mind, but instead looked up at the menu above my head, “One chino latte.”
I made the latte and handed it to him as he paid me. Sticking it in the cash register, I say without looking at him, “Have a great day.” Once he turned and left, I ran my hand through my red hair, and huffed out a sigh. I watch the door waiting for some sort of way to entertain myself before I left for home. Joanie said he would be here soon, so I could get out of here.
I looked around at the variety of people around me, and studied each of them. One guy had a laptop and looked like he hadn’t shaved for weeks. A young couple was in the corner snuggling close, but luckily, weren’t making out yet. And on his cell, a business man was talking rather loudly, going on and on how so-and-so needed to finish that project, today, or else.
Much to my relief, I saw a wavy blonde haired girl pass the window and enter the shop. She looked around at her surroundings before she stopped in front of me, smiling, “Hey Roxy.”
I lifted one side of my mouth, which you could describe as either my “smile” or more likely, my smirk.
“Hey Kelly, how’ve you been today?”
With that, Kelly was set off. She let out an “Oh-my-gosh!” and began rambling on about this and that, and I continued to smirk as I watched my friend over exaggerate about her day. I watch as her really blonde (almost bleach) and wavy hair bounces with her enthusiastic gestures. Her eyes were deep blue, yet they were light, and showed innocence. Kelly was really funny and has a great personality, but at times could be considered a little ditzy.
As she ended on her boring day, Kelly asked, “So my day pretty much sucked, how was yours?”
I continued smirking, and shrugged, “Nothing special. Some weirdo, though, came in here and tried to preach to me. It was pretty entertaining.”
Kelly giggled, but asked “Do you remember what religion? If it was one of those Mormon guys, maybe I’d be interested. Some of those guys are pretty cute.”
“Naw,” I said, “I think he was Catholic, but I can’t remember.”
Kelly shrugged and asks, “Is Joanie here yet? Can you get off work?”
Shaking my head I begin to tell her, “Not yet-!” but as I said it, Joanie himself entered the café shop.
“Hey Rox,” he says to me, “Sorry I’m a little late, Missy and I were catching lunch and I-”
“It’s fine,” I cut him off, “Thanks for coming in.” I take off the apron and hang it up, trading it with my jacket. I walk around the counter, “See you tomorrow, Jones.”
He waves, “See ya.”
Kelly and I walk out to the door into the busy streets, the cold air blistering our cheeks.
“Whew!” Kelly gasps, “It’s really cold out.”
“Yeah,” I offered, “But I prefer it over the humidity-” I was suddenly cut off by a complete stranger. The girl said, “Oh-my-gosh! Oh- I’m sorry! I could have totally sworn you were Hayley Williams! Wow, gosh! I’m so sorry!” And the girl walked off embarrassedly.
Shrugging it off, I think about what she just said. Hayley Williams. I guess we do share some characteristics. Like we both have red hair, though mine hasn’t been dyed as many times. Both aren’t especially tall, but I’m not short either, I’m almost a head taller than Kelly. I don’t know Hayley’s eye color, but mine are green, and we both have reasonably deep voices. Those are things I suppose can be compared, but whatever.
Giggling, Kelly says, “That was weird. Remember that guy who practically screamed at you? He was all “Hayley Williams! OMG! I can’t believe it! AAH!””
I shake my head at the memory, “I think that guy must have been high or something, No normal guy would have screamed in excitement like that.”
“Griffin had a good kick out of that,” Kelly snickered, “But he looked like he was gonna kill that guy for yelling at you!”
At the mention of his name, my amusement and humor left. My stomach clenched, and my heart felt a pinch. Kelly was obviously oblivious to my uneasiness of the subject, because she asked, “How is Griffin? I don’t see you and him together much.”
Through clenched teeth, I managed, “I… broke up with him.”
Kelly’s face looked astonished, “What? Why?”
“He… he wanted too much from me,” I say continuing to stare at the ground.
“Wait you mean he was too, like, clingy, or like… like what?”
“Kelly. He wanted more from me. He took me to his place and told me what he wanted.”
“Wait. I’m confused; you go to his place all the time, big whoop?”
“Kelly!” I scoff at her innocence, “He wanted more than kissing. He was starting to scare me, so I told him, technically, it’s over.”
When she fell silent, I knew she got it. It was awkward for a few more seconds, so I suggested, “How about we go to your place, and watch a movie?” She nodded, still shocked and quiet. I raise my hand for a cab.


The movie was over, it was late, and neither of us could keep our eyes open much longer. In fact Kelly’s head was flopped on her shoulder, when I shoved her, “Hey, I’m gonna go, I’ve got work again tomorrow. See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
She managed to mumble and, “Alright,” and tried to give an exceptional bye, as I left her apartment. I walk out of the little room and face the cold night, giving me a little jolt, making it a little easier to push myself home. I waited for the bus, even though I wasn’t very anxious to go home.
I don’t like going to my own house, I’d rather spend the night at Kelly’s every night, but that wouldn’t go along very well. There are two reasons I dislike my place. First, my dad. Secondly, my mom. And there’s no good food there, either. So there are three reasons, but I don’t count that one as very important. My parents are problems, because I know that when I get to the apartment, Mom won’t be home, but my dad will. My mom works, always has, and probably always will because my dad lost his, and has been “searching” for a new one for more than a year now. I know that when I get home, my dad will be there, whether or not he’s alone.
I climb onto the bus nimbly; not paying attention to the hobo huddled in the corner singing to himself silently. Yes, I said ‘whether or not he’s alone.’ My dad has a problem that I’ve found out about four years ago. It was when he was supposedly searching for a job, and was having private ‘interviews’ with many ‘people’ trying to get that job. If that was what he was doing, he was very dedicated to getting that job. Yes, my dad is having an affair. Why haven’t I told Mom? Because I think she already knows.
I hop off the bus, and walk the rest of the way to the apartments. I begin digging for my key, though it was a trick to do in this weather. I unlock the door and enter the small building, inhaling the stale smell of it. It wasn’t a very attractive room, it’s walls were peeling, the carpet was caked with who-knows-what, and it had an odd odor about it. I walk down the hall into my room and shut the door quietly. I didn’t bother changing, but instead just flopped on my bed, and closed my eyes, wishing I would automatically go to sleep. That never happens with me, though. My mind wanders too much, not allowing me to sleep ever. So my mind began to wander. It wandered to work, and how I wish I didn’t have it the next day. It wandered to Kelly, the movie that we just watched, and then our conversation from earlier that day…
Then it wandered to Griffin. Griffin. He and I have been together for a few months now. We had been together before that, but we weren’t considered a ‘thing’ because we weren’t “officially” dating yet. Griffin had dark, brown hair that went a little farther than his ear, and even darker eyes. The group I hang out with could be considered “rowdy.” We’re not severely so, we never did drugs, and I’ve never drank, but I have had my fair share of cuss words. He and I were “the couple” in our group, and it hurt bad when I broke up with him. When I first left, I almost turned around and apologized, except… I wasn’t ready to do that. To just, I guess, give myself up to that, be the girl who’s dirty, the one you can…
Anyways, I’m rowdy, but not over the top, which is fine by me. This brought my thoughts to someone else. My sister. The goody-good, sister. She’s my only other sibling, and I was constantly being compared to her. It was forever, “Why can’t you be more like Kalynn?” or perhaps, “Why couldn’t you act more responsible like your sister?” and also, “Why couldn’t you keep your grades up like your sister?” To which I want to reply, “I’m not the one who went out, got drunk, and got myself killed, am I?”
I know that wouldn’t go down well with my mom. So, instead I just cry out in frustration every time the topic comes up, and hope I don’t explode. Finally I could feel my eyes close, allowing sleep to overcome my consciousness. And soon, I was sleeping fitfully.


My alarm woke me, and the sun peeking through my blinds made it impossible to open my eyes. I put my hand up to shade my face, and sit up in bed. My leg was throbbing at having worn my skinny jeans to bed. I pull out some pajama pants and pull them on, but not before I saw angry red lines from the folds of my jeans glare at me. Letting out an annoyed, “Bah!” I headed down to the kitchen to scavenge for food. My feet and legs were regaining their feeling, and I was opening cupboards, drawers and fridges when I heard scuffling of feet coming down the hall. A yawn and scratching of his stomach, my dad was in the room with me in a white T-shirt and sweat pants.
I stared at him like a deer in the headlights. I don’t enjoy being with my parents, especially one-on-one like this. The relationship with my parents died with my innocence at age thirteen. Now we each do our own thing, and keep out of each others way, I have my job, my mom has hers, and my dad sleeps in. I had no idea what he was doing up anyways, it was too unlike him.
He seemed to be thinking the same exact thing when he saw me. His hand froze where he was scratching his stomach, and he stared at me confusedly. We continued our eye-contact fest for about three more seconds, when he asked, “… What… What time is it?”
I swallow, pushing away the lump in my throat, “Uh, it’s about eight.”
More awkward silence followed. The clocks ticking seemed louder, like in those movies where everything seems to be really noisy or slow. Tick, tick, tick, tick… It mocked, so I turned away and busied myself with trying to find some food. Dad cleared his throat, and walked to lean on the counter. I herd him sigh and felt his stare on my back. I stand stiffly, and ask, “… So, what are you doing up all ready? Don’t you sleep in and stuff?”
I turned to look at him, and he had a type of scowl on his face. He seemed to take offense to my indicating he was incapable of getting a job. He growled, “I thought I should get up and walk around a bit. What about you, don’t you have a job or something you need to be at?”
“Yeah,” I bite the inside of my lip, annoyed.
“So?” He prodded, “Why aren’t you? Don’t you wanna keep it?”
I could finally taste the blood, so I stopped chewing on my lip, and snap, “Well, I don’t begin my shift until ten… and at least I can get and keep a job.”
He folded his arms across his chest, and glared. Raising an angry eyebrow, he grits his teeth, “Hm, is that right? Well, maybe you could find and live in your own place, huh?”
I stare at him, undaunted, my chin fixed, clenched, “I could, if I wanted. Maybe I will. Maybe I don’t need this, or this crap, or you cheating on Mom, huh? Maybe I need to get out of here before I start turning into someone like you, you…” I said something that I regret, but I didn’t care, and I stormed to my room. I couldn’t stand to be in the same house as him any longer, so I changed and pulled on my jacket, took some cash and slammed the front door to the apartment behind me.
The first few of my steps were hard, stomping, and almost prideful, with my chin held high. In a few more stomps, though, I was sagging, my feet slowed, and chewed on the inside of my lip, knowing I had no where to go. Slowly I wandered farther and farther down the street. I don’t cry, whether I’m physically hurt or emotionally, and I wasn’t about to now. Instead I tried to distract myself, clear my mind. I finally realized where I was at when I slammed into someone.
“Whoa, watch it-!” He says and looks down at me, but stopped. I almost gasped at him when I saw who it was. Griffin was staring down at me, brown eyes piercing me. He raises his eyebrows, “Roxy, what are you doing here?”
I didn’t look at him directly; afraid of what would happen if I did. So I say staring at the brick wall next to us, “I… just needed to get out. What about you, this is my street, what are you doing here?” I was kind of angry at him for being here, especially so soon after our breakup.
“I was coming to talk to you,” He said, “About us.”
I laugh sarcastically, “Us? Hm, well, let’s think about this a moment. You tried to molest me a little more than twenty-four hours ago, and you want me to listen to you?”
“Roxy, look, it seemed bad, okay. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready, more mature, I guess.”
“Mature?” I shout, “Maturity? You accuse me of being immature? Griffin, you were the one acting like an idiot back there-!”
“Hey,” he said, taking hold of my arm, and leading me into an alley next to us, so we were deep in its shadows, away from the public eye. Again he said, “Hey,” and looked me in the eyes. They were entrancing, deep. His voice was alluring, and he had me pinned between him and the old, brick wall, making my head go numb. This is what I remembered. Feeling good whenever I was around him. Always being near him, touching him.
“Roxy,” Griffin said, my mind whirling, “Look, I said I was sorry, and I mean it. And we both know we like to be with each other, touching, like this,” He indicated our predicament. I realized what he was doing, and I looked away from him. I could not fall into this… this trap. He leaned his face towards mine, and said into my ear, “Rox…” his whispered breath tickling my ear and the skin around it, “Please, come back. I’ll make things right. I promise.” And suddenly his lips brushed my cheek, and he was gone. He left me, leaning against the wall, rattled. My flustered mind was coming back into perspective, and I thought about what he had said. I thought about what he said, and knew that he had been lying. He didn’t say he wouldn’t try it again. He didn’t say he was going to stop at he persisting, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to remain strong forever.
Close to tears, I look up trying to breathe normally, hoping I wouldn’t burst out sobbing. When I looked up, there was a guy about 18 standing directly from me across the street. His face was unrecognizable, because a shadow covered him. Freaking out, I regain my dignity and walk out of the alley, and start down the street to get into a more dense crowd, hoping to disappear from this guy’s view. Once lost in the sea of people, I relaxed a bit more, though I still felt like crap. I checked my watch to find it was about eight thirty, and my shift didn’t start till ten. This just sucked all the more, because I had no where to go and I wasn’t desperate or close enough to head to Kelly’s. Inhaling deeply I headed and walked into the nearest store, hoping to distract myself and blow some time.
An hour or so later, I entered the coffee shop, inhaling its aroma, taking in its warmth. Though I don’t drink coffee very often, its smell was comforting, I guess. That’s why I didn’t mind working at such a slow pace. Or such a low salary (though I wouldn’t complain to a raise either). I walk up to the counter where Missy was handing her last latte of the day to a customer. A “goodbye,” and a phony smile, She caught sight of me and waved, “Hey Rox!” I really hate that nickname.
“Hey Miss,” I reply, “Ready to get outta here?”
“Boy am I ready! One can only take in so much coffee bean inhalants before getting a high!” She untied her apron in an instant, and continued to jabber on, “Joan and I are going out again tonight, somewhere… fancy he said! I am so excited!”
“That’s cool,” I say as enthusiastically as I could. Really, I didn’t want to hear about how well someone’s love-life was going, while mine was flushing down the toilet. I ask, “Er, so how long has it been, two years you’ve been together?”
“Yeah,” She said staring too far off for me to see, “Two whole years. Now I’m waiting. For the big question. Rox, do you think he’ll do it tonight? O-my-gosh! Do you think so?” She squeals and trades me places, pulling on her jacket.
“Gee, that would be something, really cool,” I say through clenched teeth and a fixed jaw. I tie on my apron and sit on the stool, not wanting to talk about relationships. Especially about how well someone’s is going. Letting out a ragged sigh, I was hoping she’d get the message to leave. Nope.
“Joan is the most romantic person on this earth! I mean, this restaurant sounds so perfect! I can’t believe it-!” She was blabbering on and on. I really wasn’t listening anymore. So once she paused in her speech, I say, “Hey, uh, Missy, don’t you and Joan have lunch right now?”
“Huh? Oh, wow! I can’t believe I almost forgot! Thanks!” She began to hurriedly dig in her purse and pulled out her cell, and ran out the front door, allowing me to mourn in some-what silence. Actually more like she left me to listen to random peoples conversations sadly. My brain slowly turning and thinking hateful thoughts of this world, when a tinkling bell brought me back to reality. A customer entered into the Café and ordered. And so began my sad and ordinary day.
Well, so I thought. It was about a half hour before my shift ended, and I was cleaning up a spilling accident that occurred when I was still in my emo I-am-going-to-be-alone-my-whole-life-with-the-exception-of-a-few-hundreds-of-cats phase. So I was mumbling to myself about… well, I don’t know if it’s appropriate, so let’s just say I was still angry. Another person was entering the Café and I was about to scream, annoyed with people. I look up, and was instantly silenced from any words or thought.
The guy who just came in… there was no way around it, he was gorgeous. My head was whirling with dramatic thoughts, as though I were on a soap opera or in Twilight. He was like those guys at school, yet, he seemed different. Something about his eyes made me stop and think. I know this sounds totally absurd, but he was different... almost, inhuman.
Tousled to the side, his hair was brown, but dark as if someone had tinted it with a piece of charcoal. I tried to turn aside, trying to act like I didn't notice him, but it was impossible. I was practically in a trance, unable to look away. His eyes were a stormy blue, intimidating, and very intriguing. I mean…
What was I thinking? I never thought like this. Never. And now suddenly I’m drooling over some guy that was glaring at me? That’s when I realized what the guy was wearing: His color of his jacket was popped, shading his jaw. His jaw was perfectly chiseled; it came to a perfect shape, not too narrow or pointy-.
This really had to stop. I looked down and began furiously scrubbing at a stain that was forever imprinted into the surface of the counter. I sensed him move from the front door to sit somewhere, without ordering anything. I wasn’t sure if that was allowed, but I wasn’t about to tell this shifty figure to get out of here. I ceased my tireless scrubbing and looked out of the corner of my eye to see him sitting at a table furthest from the door and windows. This guy was really shifty. That’s when realization finally hit me. It was the weirdo from across the street. I almost turned to stare at him again, but instead I bit my lip.
Should I call the cops? Do I call him out? Maybe I should talk to him? My mind was spinning around, questions popping up all at once about what I should do. But then I started thinking logically. I can’t send someone to jail for walking on the street and happened to see me. Although… No one normal would have sat there and watched me either.
Releasing the breath I realized I’d been holding in, I look over to where he sat. His face was unreadable, but turned, allowing me to observe him more closely. He was looking out the window, stony gaze burning the glass. I noticed his expression may not have been that he was mad about something, maybe more… contemplative, maybe even fear. He ran his hand swiftly through his hair. That’s how I noticed the front of his hair was up in what could only be considered a “cone.” It made me want to giggle, his hair-do reminding me of a ten-year-old.
His eyes flashed suddenly, catching me by surprise. He was looking at me. Whoops, that wasn’t suppose to happen, this guy’s reflexes were fast. I turn my head quickly, possibly giving me whip-lash, my red hair flying into my face. My hair curtained my face, hiding him from my view.
Then, the unexpected happened. I wasn’t sure I had even heard it. A noise. No, no a voice. Not speaking, but… laughing. Yes, it was true; I glanced over at his direction. This punk was laughing at me, and I couldn’t believe it. His lips were pulled over white teeth, and his shoulders slightly bounced with the beat of his chuckle. His eyes were crinkled up in a smile, and, man, did he look good. That’s when I finally allowed myself to smile at my own childish acts, even if my eye brows were drawn in confusion.
Suddenly, all too soon, the bells to the door jingled, and Kelly and Joan entered together, talking about whatever it was that those two talked about. I was almost tempted to tell Joan that I would work an extra hour, until I realized how stupid that would have been. I instantly got up and threw my apron on the rack, snatching my jacket. Both Kelly and Joan walked up to the counter. Hoping they wouldn’t guess what my hurried state was about, I say, “Thanks for comin’ in Joan.”
“No prob,” He replied, seeming a bit shocked at my quick movements. He swapped places with me, and Kelly began to walk along side me, but she stopped in her tracks. I didn’t follow where her gaze had stopped. I knew exactly what… who she was looking at. I closed my eyes hoping she wouldn’t say anything, but then again, my willing stuff not to happen usually backfires on me. Like now, for instance.
“Oh. My. Go-!” Kelly gaped like a dead fish. I yanked on her arm, and dived out of the store. No way would I let Kelly sit there and stare at this beautiful stranger like he was something to eat. It was demeaning, rude… and he was my mystery guy.
When we had exited and the glass door closed behind us, Kelly exclaimed, “OH-MY-GOSH! Who was that-that… heavenly figure from above? He was so…so… Roxy, that guy was hot.”
I was hot with irritation. I knew Kelly was going to be like this; Shallow and immature. Not looking at her, I bluntly stated, “I don’t know who he is.”
I felt her gaze on me, and she choked out, “What? A guy like that walks into the Coffee House, and you don’t even ask for his name?”
I shrug, annoyed at her implication that I was stupid. Something had Kelly on edge, because usually she would have said something to the effect of, “You didn’t ask for his name?” and giggle at me. She usually wouldn’t have tried and make me feel stupid.
“What’s the matter if I didn’t ask the guys name? I don’t stalk people, and he didn’t order anything,” I spat, finally letting myself look at her, “Why is that such a bad thing?”
Kelly was shaking her head, blonde curls bouncing, “I don’t know. Something’s been up with you Roxy, you haven’t been yourself. Ever since the Griffin thing…” she didn’t finish her sentence. My suspicions were heightened, at her unfinished statement, “Ever since the Griffin thing?” I prodded, irritated, but still curious.
“Ever since the Griffin thing,” She began again, slowly, “you’ve been acting different. I mean, usually, if a guy like that came in, you’d be…”
Now I was exasperated, “Ha!” I say sarcastically, “Well, on the account it only happened three days ago, and the fact he was going to molest me… hm, yeah I’d say I have a pretty good excuse to act a little weird, but you know, that’s me. The Weirdo. I didn’t know you would defend him about being a creeper. How come you’re suddenly mad at me?”
Kelly laughed without humor, “Wow, you know what? I have to go now. I’m missing my “How to deal with psychopathic friends” lesson.” She looked me in the eyes and said, “Maybe I’ll learn why my friend has turned into some stranger.”
I watched her stalk off, not knowing what to say. She slowly turned into another person in the giant crowd. After Kelly left, I was fuming, wanting to chew her out, but knew it was useless. This wasn’t the Kelly I knew, only her shell of the past (Wow, I’m deep).
That’s also when I realized I had no where to go. It was almost habit to go to Kelly’s until my dad was asleep. Now I knew I was trapped, and after the incident this morning, I was a dead man. Inhaling deeply, I began to walk in the direction of my apartment. Being 17 sucks.


Monday, March 29, 2010

Bored? Yep. I was experimenting with the picture adding thingy, okay?

Saturday, March 27, 2010


Dedicated to: Clara Griffin. She was there for me when I was stuck, when I was down, and knows how to make me laugh, without even trying. She is awesome and deserves to be noticed. She was a friend that no body else could or can be: She was there for me.
Thank you Clara.

Invention of Living Death

Running. Panting. That’s what she was doing. Scampering from the deranged man. She was sprinting fast; her breath was labored and now soar to exhale or inhale. She had long-gone kicked off her shoes, letting her tiny feet slap against the marble floors of the large, seemingly-endless house.
She heard his demented laughter echoing behind her, causing her panic to increase.
Finally! She had reached the enormous doors. Grasping them, she yanked hard awaiting to be freed. But terror engulfed her. She was locked in! Horrified, she heard him enter the room over her panting breath.
Suddenly, nausea clouded her, and she dropped to the ground, making her dress poof about her. She clutched her neck where his lips had touched her, for it suddenly pained her. She gasped aloud, both at the pain and at him. He was sitting right next to her, smiling evilly, or more correct, psychotically.
The pain started traveling throughout her, at the exact moment the handsome, sick man said, “The venom is spreading now, is it not?” and he laughed.
Before she could scream her disgust, she suddenly smelt something intoxicating, but it made her grasp her stomach and begin heaving violently.
“Ah, you smell it now, don’t you? Isn’t it,” He inhaled deeply, “mouthwatering?”
She wanted nothing more than to smack this man she once loved and simply have this pain over with. But the abrupt agony in her eyes made her scream. What had he done to her? She fell on her side and began in hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably, the pain too much.
“My darling,” The man cooed, “Please don’t cry, for the pain will soon be over with, please. Don’t cry.”
A moment before she lost consciousness, she asked or pled, “Why? Wh-what have you done to me? I loved you!”
He simply smiled, “Darling, I have found a way for us to be together for eternity,” He whispered, ‘We are… Vampires.”
And with that, she blacked out.
Okay, so it's not really the story of my life, but there are stories. Mandy Matthews here, reporting for duty! I'm making this blog for writing purposes. I'm hoping to get 'worldly' advice on my books, so I would appreciate any comments anyone may have! Thanks!